


Speckles Unveiled

by lilithduvare



Series: Imperfections [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Body Worship, D/s elements, Dom!Yuuri, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post Episode 09, Power Play, Shower Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 13:44:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8803120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithduvare/pseuds/lilithduvare
Summary: Yuuri has fallen irrevocably in love with Viktor years ago, and he still has problems understanding that Viktor returns his feelings. Because Viktor is perfect inside out.
Except he really isn't. 
And Yuuri gets to see, feel and taste just how imperfectly perfect the real Viktor is.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was blown away by your response to the first part of the story. All the kudos and wonderful comments (I will reply asap) made my heart sing. So as a thank you gift, here is another story of our favorite boys. Showing a side of Yuuri we only recently learned about, but I want to explore further in the future. Love you guys to pieces.

 

It is easy to hold Viktor on a pedestal when he is nothing more than an ethereal mirage gliding on the ice and soaring in the air like it is the easiest thing in the world. It is still easy to ignore the flaws and blemishes that make Viktor painfully human yet no less perfect when they first start working together––-Yuuri burnt out and skeptical, Viktor inexperienced but determined to prove his worth in his new role. It is impossible to think of anything but the myriad of colors, sensations and sounds when they first make love, Viktor perfect in his acceptance and desire, guiding Yuuri past his hang-ups and fears like they are nothing but minor bumps in the road, worth the attention but so easy to pass by.

Viktor is perfect in body and soul, and Yuuri thinks he could never see him anything but. And probably it would never have changed if Yuuri didn’t have to watch Viktor’s behind disappear behind the bathroom door one too many times. It’s a spontaneous idea, really. Yuuri doesn’t even think it through, just lets his body slide out of the disheveled bed and follow after Viktor through the door and into the slowly steaming up bathroom. 

Viktor is standing under the near scalding stream of water, eyes closed as he turns his face up to wash away the last dregs of sleep, and Yuuri can’t take his eyes off him. His feet tap with muffled little noises on the cold tiles as he walks over, pulled in by the magnetism of his lover… 

His lover.

His already addled mind comes to a sudden halt at that thought. The knowledge as heady and dreamlike as it was when their attraction grew into a relationship––no matter how unbelievable that still feels. And to know it’s real, to feel the sweet remnants of their passion on his body every time he moves even an inch, is still enough to leave him gasping for air and yearn for Viktor’s touches even more––like an addict, needing his next fix.

And he needs his next fix of Viktor now.

Stomach in knots and his heart trying to climb out through his throat, Yuuri steps behind Viktor, his fingers sliding over the ridges of Viktor’s muscled stomach, eager to explore without the distraction of Viktor’s dizzying touch. The idea to map every inch of Viktor’s skin the same way Viktor has been discovering his body whenever he got close enough to touch. And drive Yuuri crazy. 

Now it’s his turn.

His thumbs dig into Viktor’s hips when he tries to turn around, a mischievous smile playing around Yuuri’s lips as he leans close to Viktor’s ear to flick the lobe with his tongue. “Vitya,” he whispers, basking in the way Viktor throws his head back with a groan, muscles tensing.

“Yuuri, what––”

“Shh, just enjoy.”

Yuuri has no idea what is the foreign wickedness that overcomes him, but he just can’t get enough. He needs to taste, touch, claim every sliver of gloriously unblemished skin he can reach. An unknown and dark, possessive part of him wants to leave behind just as deep of an impression as Viktor left engraved into his skin.

Viktor bares his throat, and Yuuri’s right hand immediately lifts to sink into his silken platinum hair, to support his head while his lips descend hungry to latch onto that perfect little patch of paleness behind Viktor’s ea––-

_ Oh. _

Yuuri freezes, riveted by the sight of slightly puckered, white furl behind Viktor’s ear. His left forefinger reaches out on its own, abandoning the slopes of artfully sculpted abdominal muscles to test that little indent, that alien part adorning Viktor’s perfection. It’s raised and smooth, but in a different way than the skin surrounding it is.

It’s a scar. 

A cut to be precise. It looks and feels old, too smooth and faded to be anything but, yet Yuuri can’t take his eyes away even when he feels Viktor’s entire body tense under his touch. It’s just too surreal, too… real. Human. Imperfect.

_ Oh. _

“Darling?” Viktor sounds unsure, still facing away from Yuuri, but his body language speaks of discomfort, uncertainty, worry. Just like when he believed Yuuri was touching his hair because it was thinning. 

Yuuri can’t have that. He can’t let Viktor think that he’s less perfect just because his humanity shining through the carefully designed spotless facade he constructed around around himself as an armor to shield him from the world. The armor that has been chinked, scraped just to Yuuri’s eyes and he was such an ever damned blind fool that it has taken him an impulsive act of pure selfishness to see what has been in front of him for months.

“Vitya,” he murmurs again, and does the only thing he can to reassure Viktor, to show him he is there and not going anywhere. 

He kisses the scar. 

First softly, a brush of lips, just a tease that send a shiver down Viktor’s spine and spreads his skin with a swarm of gooseflesh. Yuuri smiles against the scar and flicks it with the tip of his tongue, learning its shape. Length. Width. Flavor. Burning it into his memory again and again until he can find it without looking, see it even with his eyes closed.

He takes his time moving lower, his fingers in Viktor’s hair rubbing and stroking and dragging delightful sighs and choked little moans from Viktor’s throat. Nipping at the taut line of Viktor’s neck, Yuuri explores the throbbing vein, thrumming against the damp, flushed hot skin, tasting and mapping it all the way down to Viktor’s shoulder and a splatter of pale freckles he has never seen before.

How could he miss this before? He has seen Viktor naked before. In all his glory and miles of silky skin. How is it possible… 

His train of thought gets derailed by the obscene groan that falls off Viktor’s lips when he sucks a tiny batch of freckles into his mouth, learning the enticing marks with kitten licks. They taste like Viktor, the flavor of his skin and clean, warm water mingling on Yuuri’s taste buds. He needs more. Much more. So he bites down, nearly drowning in Viktor’s lustful moan and the way he pushes his hips back, the firm globes of his ass sliding against Yuuri’s need.

It’s instinct to thrust, the thought of burying himself in Viktor’s body causes him to lose all control for just a moment. His fingers tighten in Viktor’s hair, just shy of pulling. It’s still enough to make Viktor hiss and butt his head against Yuuri’s palm to lessen the pressure on his sensitive follicles. It makes Yuuri pull just a bit more.

“Yuuri…” Viktor gasps, back arching, his abs under Yuuri’s wandering free hand contracting. “Ah…”

“Vicchan,” Yuuri murmurs, drunk on the power he has over his lover. He swallows heavily and moves his lips across Viktor’s shoulder to the other, following the seductive path of freckles, licking and sucking.

His hand on Viktor’s stomach slides down just as his other in the silvery strands loosens and soothes the sting of pull. His nails scratch against the short, neatly trimmed hairs framing Viktor’s erection, enjoying the tickle-sting against the pad of his finger trips and the way it is driving Viktor mad. Water patters against Viktor’s body, stray droplets falling on Yuuri’s face and body, but he couldn’t care less about the water when he has the gorgeous, newly revealed expanse of his love’s body in front of him, demanding his attention. His sole focus.

“You taste so good,” he bites the words into the sharp cut of Viktor’s right shoulder blade just above a delicious looking little mole––dark and raised just enough for Yuuri’s senses to notice the difference in texture. He licks over the tiny spot again and again and again, his mind foggy with want, greater than anything he has ever felt. "I love you so much."

And he can’t get enough.

There are more to explore, still. It means he has to let go of Viktor’s hair when he sinks lower, a disappointed sigh touching Viktor’s lips that turns into a wanton moan when Yuuri wraps his hand around Viktor’s hardness, a now almost familiar routine he has been practicing with varying brazenness every since their first night together. He squeezes and strokes up, the water’s pattering an extra layer of stimulation against Viktor’s nerves. It also serves as just the right amount of slick, the glide of Yuuri’s fingers turning smooth yet stimulating enough to make Viktor thrust into the touch. 

Except Yuuri wants him completely under his control.

He brings his free hand down to Viktor’s hips, allowing his nails to rake startling red marks into the creamy skin, watching the movement with hungry eyes. It’s a pity he can’t see Viktor’s expression, especially now that he has his head bowed, hair flattened against the back of his skull, and Yuuri is crouched down against the middle of Viktor’s back, searching for new areas to explore. His fingers wrap around the sharp jut of Viktor’s hipbone, pushing into the thinly stretched skin over it and dragging against the surface.

“I want to hear you,” he hears himself saying and gets to see from mere inches as Viktor’s entire body goes rigid. Months ago he would have second guessed himself. He would have faltered and stopped. Now he actually feels Viktor’s erection harden even more in his grip, sees the minute trembles running down his  _ boyfriend _ ’s spinem the gooseflesh tasting like tiny fizz bubbles against Yuuri’s tongue. “Tell me what you want,” he adds, barely recognizing his voice.

“Y-Yuuri,” Viktor stutters, so unlike him. “ _ Vozlûblennyj… _ ” 

Beloved. A gasped, faltering plea.

“ _ Da _ ?” Yuuri asks, biting into the foreign word, marking it into one of the delectable dimples over Viktor’s tailbones. Viktor gasps, his cock throbbing in Yuuri’s still slowly stroking hand. “Tell me. Viktor, tell me what you want. What you need.” He emphasizes each demand with a bite, deeper and harder, his hand picking up the pace just enough to be maddening, but not to push Viktor over the edge.

“Make me yours,” Viktor moans, his body trembling. “Take me. I need… you.”

Yuuri has to swallow around his suddenly parched throat, sane thoughts long gone. He has no idea where he finds the power to open his mouth and practically growl out, “As you wish,” like an animal in heat, before he latches back onto the vast land of not so perfect skin. He feasts on each little mark he finds in his frenzied search for any speckle, scar, memento of time. 

Tasting. Marking. Claiming.  

He covers Viktor’s entire back with kisses and little nips––some deeper than others––before he fully kneels down to ravish his backside, pulling the firm globes apart with both of his hands, much to Viktor’s momentary displeasure. Yuuri kisses the round cheeks, soothing caresses to appease Viktor’s abandoned need, before watches his index finger slide over the firm, furls of Viktor’s opening, instantly quelling the indignant, needy groan above him.

“ _ Pozhaluista…  _ Yuuri… Ah!” Viktor moans, coherence failing him the moment Yuuri pushes his face between his parted cheeks and flicks his tongue against the tight muscles of Viktor’s anus. 

It’s nothing like he has ever tasted before. It’s… earthy, dark, unthinkable… 

Addictive. 

He needs more. 

More. And more. And more.

Until it's the only thing he can taste on his tongue. Until it melts into his being.

He doesn’t even think about backing down. He just pushes forward, ravenous and insatiable, eating Viktor out until he is drenched in Yuuri’s saliva and his knees tremble so much that it seems like he is about to collapse. But they can’t have that. So Yuuri pulls back, curls an arm around Viktor’s thighs to hold him up while his other hand reaches up to push against Viktor’s spine.

“Bend,” he orders and a part of him really has no idea what sort of creature has stolen his voice and mind to make him to such lewd things.

A part of him that shuts up the moment Viktor obeys without a word, his torso sliding down, his legs pushing against Yuuri’s arm in his attempt to widen his stance and give them a better view. And Yuuri takes it all, devouring the sight with a greed that should be frightening yet only manages to make him crave more.

Nothing matters anymore. Not the water beating down on their bodies. Not the world outside the shower stall. Not their inhibitions. There is only the two of them and Yuuri’s absolute desire to claim Viktor the same way Viktor claimed him. 

It’s hard.

His hands suddenly are too unstable, his breathing labored, and his vision inadequate, but he pushes on. He continues to open Viktor’s body, using the bottle Viktor somehow manages to push into his hand to slicken his fingers’ way in, watching the way they disappear in Viktor with each thrust of his hand. He listens to Viktor’s gasps and moans, learning the perfect angle and speed to drive Viktor beyond madness. To make him fall.

Fall.

Then join him.

It’s explosive and probably over too soon. Yuuri has no idea how time works anymore. It feels like they exist outside reality, in an entirely new dimension where only pleasure and the sound of their moans exist, only to be burned away by a blinding white hot blaze that leaves them in a boneless heap doused in cooling shower water. 

Eyes closed and breathing each other’s air as they try to find an anchor. 

It’s hard.

Just as hard as falling had been. But they manage to pull through, sated and disgustingly in love, whispering barely comprehensible vows of their devotion wrapped in each other's body. They manage to drag themselves out of the shower and back to bed. Where Yuuri spends another eternity to explore the front side of Viktor’s body. Unveiling each and every speckle, scar and mark he can find in his quest to learn everything he can about the man he had fallen in love with, yet only is getting to know now.

And Viktor finally lets him.


End file.
